


wish i had a storm warning, wish i had a sign

by notthebigspoon



Series: Brandon and Hobbes [6]
Category: Baseball RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-28
Updated: 2012-09-28
Packaged: 2017-11-15 05:15:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/523555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notthebigspoon/pseuds/notthebigspoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hobbes has become a mascot of sorts for Brandon. He usually has Hobbes travel with him anyway but now the tiger is a known entity. He's always at any park Brandon goes to, tucked into Brandon's locker. Everyone has heard about Brandon's epic freakout over Lopez tossing him around. They all know not to lay a finger on Hobbes. Anyone who gets any bright ideas is quickly reprimanded by Cain, Zito or Buster.</p><p>Title taken from Storm Warning by Hunter Hayes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	wish i had a storm warning, wish i had a sign

Hobbes has become a mascot of sorts for Brandon. He usually has Hobbes travel with him anyway but now the tiger is a known entity. He's always at any park Brandon goes to, tucked into Brandon's locker. Everyone has heard about Brandon's epic freakout over Lopez tossing him around. They all know not to lay a finger on Hobbes. Anyone who gets any bright ideas is quickly reprimanded by Cain, Zito or Buster. Brandon, who still prefers not to talk about it, generally doesn't discuss Hobbes other than to tell Baggs that he's had him since he was a kid and it's a good luck charm.

It makes a nice little fluff piece that the fans 'aww' over and makes his mother call him, anxious and concerned and asking if he's taking his medication like he's supposed to. He hangs up on her, chucking his phone into his locker with profane energy. A hand between his shoulder blades, rubbing in slow circles, keeps him from getting too worked up. He glances up at Zito, chewing on his lip and shaking his head.

“I know she means well. I know she loves me. But sometimes I hate her for thinking that I'm crazy. I think she knows it too. Makes me feel like an asshole.”

“You have a right to be at least a little upset.” Zito shrugs, sitting down in the next chair. He glances around the clubhouse. Dead empty, most everyone gone for the night. He taps three times on the locker and whistles.

Hobbes unfolds himself out of the locker and gives Zito a dirt look as he sits on the floor between them.

“Do I look like a dog to you, Zito?”

“The signal was _your_ idea.”

“Nobody said anything about a whistle being added!”

Brandon smiles, rocking back in his chair and kicking his feet up in his locker. He closes his eyes, enjoys the sound of Hobbes and Zito arguing and the sensation of Hobbes's tail swishing against his leg periodically. By the time Hobbes and Zito have settled the argument and started talking about tuna subs from Subway for dinner, Brandon is half asleep. Hobbes starts nudging and nipping his hands to wake him up. Brandon keeps his eyes shut, grinning widely.

The moment, lighthearted and draining the last of the stress from Brandon's body, is interrupted by a sharp shout of fear that makes them all jump and turn around. Sandoval is standing there, phone in hand. The phone clatters to the floor as Sandoval backs up straight into Buster. He whispers around, grabbing Buster's shoulders tightly.

“It's a tiger, man. A fucking tiger! Where is there a fucking tiger in the clubhouse?”

“It's not going to hurt you.” Buster shrugs, stepping around Sandoval like he himself hadn't totally flipped out the first time he had met Hobbes. He crosses to them and a chair up, reaching out and patting Hobbes. “Finally stretching your legs?”

“Brandon's mom called. Guess how that went.” Hobbes mutters before brightening. “But we're getting subway for dinner tonight. Tuna.”

“It talks.”

They all turn back around. Brandon had actually forgotten about Sandoval behind them. Hobbes clears his throat and pads across the room, sitting down and holding up a paw. “I'm sorry. That was rude of me. Hobbes Crawford. Mascot, best friend, philosopher.”

“Please don't eat me.”

“Pandas are not part of the tiger's diet. I prefer tuna.” Hobbes answers, waving his paw expectantly. Sandoval shakes it with an unsteady hand, watching with wide eyes as Hobbes rejoins Brandon, Buster and Zito before issuing an invitation to Sandoval to join them.

Sandoval looks very much like he wants to run but he approaches them, pulls a chair in to the circle. Hobbes explains his own existence as best he can with Buster and Zito periodically throwing in their own stories about him and Brandon. It's half an hour before Sandoval can look at Hobbes without shaking but after that, it's clear they've found another ally. Sandoval actually asks if he can borrow Hobbes when they pack up to head to the hotel, knowing it's long past time that they left. He cringes as soon as he says it.

“I didn't mean it like that. I just want to talk to you. This is so crazy. Just, y'know, wow.”

Hobbes shrugs and when they leave the park to walk to the hotel, there's a stuffed tiger gently tucked under Sandoval's arm. Their other teammates look like they want to warn him until they realize that Brandon and his crew of enforcers (from the lips of Brian Wilson) are with him. Hobbes goes back to Sandoval's room with him. Buster and Brandon go to Buster's room.

“Well. Your boy is having a slumber party.” Buster teases. “What do we do with ourselves for the night?”

“I don't know.” Brandon answers helplessly.

He feels lost without Hobbes there. He hasn't spend a night apart from him in years. Even the times Buster would share his hotel rooms or come over, Hobbes would either sleep in the bathroom or be off in his own part of the apartment. Hobbes is just down the hall and around the corner for the night but he might as well be a million miles away.

Brandon startles when Buster's arms wrap around him. Buster kisses him, smiling. “You miss him, don't you? You miss him already.”

“We've never been apart before. Not since, y'know, the hospital and for a while after when they hid him.” Brandon answers plaintively.

Buster says nothing about the hospital, because he knows by now that even if Brandon mentions it, it's not something he's comfortable discussing any further than a mention. He just brushes his fingers through Brandon's scruff and kisses him again while he runs his hands down Brandon's sides before sliding his hands into Brandon's back pockets.

“He'll be okay with Pablo. They got along great. You need to enjoy yourself. We could have a good time tonight.”

“Doing what?” Brandon asks, miserable.

Buster just grins and backs away, pulling his shirt over his head and tossing it aside. He pushes his jeans down his hips. “Well, I don't know about you, but I'm going to bed. Naked. Feel free to join me.”


End file.
